


Playing Hooky

by maidenofsouls (kira892)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Sky High AU, Skyhighstuck, super heroes woop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 02:33:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1452253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kira892/pseuds/maidenofsouls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crow was perched on the window sill. It pauses mid tap when the curtains part and stares down at you with glossy black eyes and tilts its head to the side curiously. You're not sure what's weirder, that there were black circles on its feathers, around its eyes or that its feathers a bright shade of red. The answer would be neither. At least to you since you've seen this bird a billion times, the last of which would be this morning, right before the first bell when you split ways to go to your respective classes.</p><p>The crow jerks its head up a little. Sup</p><p>In which super teens skip super school because pshh who needs to learn how to save the world, let's leave that to the adults</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Hooky

**Author's Note:**

> I should be studying for exams but this thing just demanded to be written so here have 11 pages of John and Dave being snarky boyfriends and kissing a lot. 
> 
> At some point I thought to myself, what is the point of making a superhero!high school au when they're just going to be doing normal highschool au stuff (more or less) anyway? But then I thought. why the fuck not? so yes here. take it.
> 
> Sky high stuck is partly dedicated to [Sabrina](http://kamikaze-kaitou-jeanne.tumblr.com/) who is the only person I know who has even seen sky high. what is up with that? here you go sweetums johndaves and sky high aw ye

 

You'd just settled in at your dad's room with a bowl of chili and 8 blankets, tv on and curtains drawn, when you hear the tapping. With a loud groan you roll, totally uninterested in utilizing your fully capable legs to stand up and walk. You slide out of your little nest, tumble across the carpet until you hit the wall like a tool and reach up to tug the curtains aside.

 

A crow was perched on the window sill. It pauses mid tap when the curtains part and stares down at you with glossy black eyes and tilts its head to the side curiously. You're not sure what's weirder, that there were black circles on its feathers, around its eyes or that its feathers a bright shade of red. The answer would be neither. At least to you since you've seen this bird a billion times, the last of which would be this morning, right before the first bell when you split ways to go to your respective classes.

 

The crow jerks its head up a little. _Sup_

 

With another groan, you pull yourself up to a sitting position so you can unlatch the window and let him in. As soon as you slide the window up, the crow swoops in, lands in the middle of the room and in a sudden blur of warped shapes and blurry colors, you suddenly find yourself in the company of your best friend/ boyfriend who at this very moment should be sitting in a classroom some 5,000 feet up in the air, learning motorcycle sidecar basics or how to change into a flashy costume in under 5 seconds.

 

You resume being a useless lump on the floor as Dave stands, and he raises an eyebrow at you from behind his shades. “What's your damage?”

 

“Had a little accident in the Mad Science lab.” You say pointing at your nose, which is practically glowing red in the middle of your face, your flushed, gross face. You feel like you've spontaneously conjured the power to leech the flu off of every single sick person on the planet and suffer it all at the same time in a massive super flu after Mr. Scratch lifted the glass cover on that glowy green stone he brought to class today and it blew up a little in your face. You probably did, no matter what nurse Peixes said. You repeat this all to Dave out loud, interjecting your words with sniffles and quick swipes of your nose against the sleeve of your tee and the back of your hand.

 

“I didn't wait for them to get me a bus to send me home. I just flew here by myself. Kind of a terrible idea in hindsight. My eyes felt like they were going to explode or melt by the time I landed on the roof. Also altitude and a level 10 cold don't mix but eeurghh. At least I got to catch dad before he went to work and he made me some chili.”

 

Dave snorts a little, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He flops easily down on the armchair next to your dad's bed, crosses his ankles and regards you like a puppy that got its head stuck in a paper towel roll or something equally inane and silly.

 

“The great John Egbert taken down by the flu. Super villains everywhere are probably suffering intense confusion as we speak not knowing whether to cry or rejoice that this is all they get to look forward to.”

 

“Shut up Dave. How are you even here? How'd you know I went home?”

 

“Rose. Duh.”

 

Oh right. Omnipotent sister.

 

“Oh. Kay, wait aren't you missing, you know _things_? Important sidekick things?”

 

“It's _hero support_ ” Dave says in a mock offended tone not unlike the way Karkat's older brother uses all the time. “and meh.”

 

You raise your eyebrows at him flatly. “Meh?”

 

“Meh. It's a very compelling argument so complex that it'll take Mr. Scratch's veiny bulbous forehead and the veiny bulbous foreheads of at least three of his clones to have it figured out. They'd have to fill up 50 blackboards with equations and diagrams to figure out how Meh could sneeze on any argument and make it 10 times sicker with delirious logic. Ultimately, Meh arrives at the conclusion: your boyfriend is here, you are welcome, shut up.”

 

Your response to that is to make a face and vocalize a sound that is a nasal crossbreed between “Bluuuh” and “Mreeeh”.

 

“Seriously though, you okay? I heard that thing exploded so hard, it blew you far enough to put you through the back wall of the lab.”

 

The genuine concern in his voice reminds you that he flew all the way here, he's skipping class because he heard that there was a mishap in the Mad Science Lab and you were the only casualty. You smile a little and nod. “Mm fine, except for you know, the whole, coughing, sneezing, slight fever deal. I'll probably be fine after lying under a lot of blankets and eating chili while watching tv for a few hours. Which was what I was about to do before you showed up.”

 

Dave pulls his hands out of his pockets to gesture with them as he says “Don't let me interrupt.”

 

You crawl your way back to the mess of blankets you rolled out of a few minutes ago, which just so happens to be in front of the arm chair Dave is currently sitting on. You pause just before crawling back in and cocooning yourself in cotton and linen to ask. “Shouldn't you go back to class now that you're sure I'm okay?”

 

“Meh John, remember? Meh.” He says with enough conviction to make it almost sound like an actual argument. You roll your eyes and flop ungracefully into the blankets. You'd just turned your back to him when you blink and the next thing you know, you're lying on your stomach with a pillow under you for comfort, a Dave right beside you and blankets draped over you both. Dave had the bowl of chili in his hands and the remote on his lap. He gestures to it with his head.

 

“You gonna turn on the tv or what?” he asks.

 

You sigh, pick up the remote and turn the tv on. He feeds you a spoon of chili. There really isn't any point in needling him you suppose. Not like there's more damage to be done, here's a super teen who can manipulate time and instead he's chosen to make the school believe the only extraordinary thing he can do is turn into a bird because being a sidekick is ironic.

 

Besides, so long as he uses his powers to make you comfortable with minimal effort and not to burn the city to the ground you're certainly not complaining.

 

 

You end up watching AFV for two hours while Dave feeds you chili. You probably laugh a bit too hard at some of the clips. Most of the clips. Almost all of the clips. and you definitely laughed too hard at a clip of two squirrels fighting each other, you just totally lose it and snot and spit come flying out to perform disgusting acrobatic pirouettes from your face and onto the carpet, Dave's leg and his arm. He shoves you away, grossed out and uses his weird stopping time trick to make you go from laughing at him while mopping up a wayward fleck of spit on your lip with your palm one second to lying on your back on the floor with tissues stuffed in your mouth and nostrils the next.

 

You glare at Dave dourly as you sit up, spit out the tissues in your mouth and yank out the ones in your nose. He just poker faces at you until you grab his ear. He immediately flinches and calls uncle because even when you're as sick as a dog, you're still the lucky bastard whose mother's windy powers and father's superhuman strength _both_ got passed down to and you can still throw ten daves across the neighborhood with one arm, at the same time.

 

You let go of his ear with a smug little grin and he does the closest thing to a pout he seems to be capable of (which is his usual poker face with just the slightest downturn of his lips) until you lean forward and give him a short, messy kiss, right on the mouth. He flinches away, batting at you like you were an over affectionate, slobbering dog.

 

“Gross dude, don't infect me with your Eg-germs.”

 

You just grab his face and plant a big, wet smooch, one on each cheek, the bridge of his nose and his forehead. You're about to go for his mouth again when he suddenly shifts to crow form and taps you sharply on the philtrum with his beak.

 

“Ow!” You yelp as Dave easily flies out of your grasp, which you didn't have time to tighten when he shifted. He perches himself on your head and brushes his wings against the messy black wisps of hair curling this way and that in wild patterns all over your scalp, trying to make an even bigger mess. Rather ineffectually since he lacks fingers, which would be much more helpful in completing the task he seeks to accomplish. You roll your eyes and push him off with a light nudge of your finger.

 

He flies down to your lap where he hops around a few times before changing from crow back to boy. H e ends up tucked neatly in the cradle of your legs, back to your chest and hands resting on your knees.

You peck the back of his neck just because you can and Dave tilts his head back. You take it as an invitation to press your face into his hair. It's stupidly soft and it smells vaguely like the sweet kiddy toothpaste your dad used to get for you.

 

“Do you and Bro still buy those dumb kids shampoos with Disney characters on them?”

 

“What? Shit smells nice. Also ironic as fuck.”

 

You lean down to huff against his neck. “You are so fucking dumb.”

 

“Says the dumbass who always sits in front during Mad Science.”

 

Your only come back is to lick his neck and Dave yelps before trying to squirm out of your lap, ranting about spit and germs the whole time. You lock your arms around him to make sure he stays put and threaten to lick his entire face if he doesn't stop whining.

“Jokes on you because I might actually like that. Don't you remember who was my girlfriend for a year before you pulled your head out of your ass?”

 

You easily maneuver him around so that he was sitting sideways on your lap and you can get at his face all too easily. You stick your tongue out obnoxiously, fully intent on licking him again but before your tongue could make any contact with pale skin and freckles, there's a hand on your face, pushing you back.

 

“I said _might_. I broke up with Terezi for a reason, learn from her mistakes man.”

 

“I have no intention of sticking my tongue down that weird juggalo guy's throat.”

 

“Good, let's keep it that way. And while you're at it, don't stick it up my nose either capisce?”

 

“Gross Dave.”

 

“Your face is gross.” Dave points out. He's kind of right at the moment and you affirm it with a loud sniffle but he drapes his arms over your shoulders and nuzzles your cheek anyway.

 

“You like my face.”

 

“I don't think its completely hideous.”

 

You make a face at him and you think you feel a corner of his mouth lift ever so slightly when you nudge him with your head. His face is perfectly blank when you pull back enough to look at him however. Your gaze drops to his lips and you know he doesn't miss it. You lift your chin, leaning in just a little. Dave doesn't speak or move away so you lean in just a bit more and give him a proper kiss, chaste and close-mouthed. Your lips curl up into a small smile when they pull away from his. Dave's remain impassive and flat but you've known him for so long, kissed him enough in the past few months to sense the small smile he's stupidly holding back from you.

 

So you do what you always do, try to coax it out of him.

 

When you lean in again, Dave tries to pull back, teasing but you get one hand on the back of his head and the other around one of the forearms draped on your shoulders and you urge him forward for another kiss. The hand on the back of his head slides forward to cup his jaw when your lips make contact. He barely kisses back at first and you pull away with a small smack.

 

“I'm going to be so gross and sick by the time I get home.” Dave complains, even as you feel his hands slowly skimming up, one on your arm and the other on your side.

 

“You could always go back in time and stop yourself before the past 5 minutes happen.”

 

He pretends to mull that over as one of his hands settle on your shoulder, kneads it gently.

 

“Good point.” and then he's leaning forward to smear the smile that appears on your face with his lips. He doesn't really succeed in ridding you of it but you do kiss him back eagerly, dropping your hands to slide them under him. You lift him easily as you gather your legs under you and stand, could have done it with one hand with just as much effort if you so wished. Something you know Dave likes, like, a lot. Which may or may not be why you did it when Dave doesn't even utter a peep and just keeps kissing you back, hands sliding up to settle in your hair as you relocate the two of you to your room and settle down on your bed, clearly intending to turn the kissing to a full make out session.

 

The makeouts end up getting cut short, or at least much shorter than you would like when you had to pull away from Dave and lean over the side of your bed to sneeze three times and have a coughing fit strong enough to almost launch you out the window and afterwards Dave absolutely refuses to kiss you, even when you actually pick him up with one arm and sway him around a little bit.

 

You even carry him downstairs, tucked into the crook of your elbow like an overgrown infant. He still refuses to even give you a peck, on the grounds that he may be a sidekick but he still had enough dignity not to be used as a human kleenex. You think he's just being a jerk. A big old jerk face who won't even let you kiss his cheek when you get him a bottle of apple juice from the fridge. You, his poor sick boyfriend who just wants some affection.

 

He does however settle down close enough to practically be on your lap when you flop down on the couch to check the news, bottle of aj still clasped in his hands. You watch the news for a few minutes, waiting to see if you'd see your dad. At least one of the current active super heroes in the area pops up in the news every other week, doing everything from dousing burning buildings to saving kittens from trees. Your dad tends to pop up a bit more often than the rest because he likes to help _everyone_ in _any way_ he can, whether it be to hand deliver an ice cream to a crying child in full super hero gear or getting rid of traffic blocks by man handling wayward cars off the road and reprimanding their law breaking drivers.

 

He's reeeally setting a pretty high standard for you to live up to after you graduate. You mention this probably for the billionth time to Dave, who's known you since 1st grade. He agrees because sure enough, your dad pops up on the tv. The afternoon news show clips of him foiling a bus robbery, looking tall, intimidating and righteous. If you were anyone else you would probably wonder if the media just loves portraying him that way. But you're not. _You_ are John Egbert, son of the man on tv. You know better than anyone how genuinely good and heroic he really is. And again, it's more than a little intimidating.

 

“Honestly though, don't even sweat it man. You'd measure up to your dad just fine.”

 

Dave says easily, words slipping out of his mouth so simply, wrapped in such assurance as if he were just mentioning that the sun would come up tomorrow and it would still glow bright and yellow in the sky when it emerges from the horizon.

 

You look at him, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “You don't know that.”

 

Dave just gives you a look, tilting his head so that his eyes peek out at you from behind the tops of his shades. “Uh yeah Egbert I kind of do. In case you haven't noticed I've known you since your teeth were big enough to block out the sun. I've watched the evolution of the Egbertasaurus okay, it took forever for the rest of you to catch up with your blunt sabertooth incisors and I was stuck with you through _all_ of that time. You'd rescue people from burning buildings and jump in front of bullets meant for other people even if you were completely normal because you're that stupid and fortunately for you, mother nature gave you enough superhuman boon to make sure your stupidness wont get you killed and you might possibly save thousands of lives while you're at it so,” Dave says, cutting himself off and shrugging suddenly like he was embarrassed he praised you that much.

 

“Yeah you'd be fine.” He adds, taking a sip of apple juice. “If there's anyone at all who won't live up to their super hero guardian, you're looking at him. The throne of failure isn't big enough for both of us John, fuck off and accept your destiny as the next Steve Rogers.”

 

You frown at him. “Don't say that dumbshit, your bro was a hero but you so are too.”

 

Dave just pretends not to hear you. “If you don't believe me at least take it from Rose. Ask her and I'm sure all she'd tell you is try not to die before you hit 25 because you'd be so stupid and heroic not even your powers can save you from all the dangerous world saving you'd be doing.”

 

You flick him sharply on the thigh, which coming from you is probably the equivalent of semi-seriously punching someone with your elbow. Dave jumps with a startled _ow!_ And looks at you indignantly. You just stare at him, thinking back to the time Dave mentioned, when you were just a tiny tiny thing with huge bespectacled eyes that took up half your face and teeth that took up the other half. Your powers were non existent back then and remained so until you hit puberty. Bullies targeted you like you had a flashing neon sign hovering above your head at all times that read 'beat me up and you get candy.'

 

And then along came the weird blond kid who never said anything in class. He moved faster than you've ever seen anyone move. Literally. Because you blinked and he went go from being behind a bully to standing on top of him while he laid face down on the ground. He took down the next one even before you could blink, simply just being in one spot and then just. In another spot altogether in less than a second. The bullies all ran away screaming and after the blond kid helped you up, he asked if he could have the dented, dirt covered juice box that spilled out of your lunch bag when the bullies attacked you and got stepped on in the scuffle. You said no and he said he'd trade you the dead worm he found in the sand box for it. He was weird as hell but he just saved your butt so you liked him.

 

Dave protected you until you could do it yourself, had to do so without using his powers multiple times because sometimes too many people were around. He suffered more than his share of black eyes and split lips because of it. And you _know_ it wasn't limited to just you. There's things that you've heard from almost all your friends, things Dave would definitely deny or downplay as something totally stupid and unimpressive. You know you're not the only person he's saved or helped and you really can't figure out why he thinks he's so hung up on his notion of what a hero is supposed to be and why he would always come short of it.

 

Well,you know why. But Dave never wants to talk about it and after a while you've stopped trying to make him. His bro is alive and well but he's gone inactive years ago, after a huge fight with Jack Noir, one of the baddest super villains the world has ever known. He barely made it out alive and you know Dave blames himself. It's _extremely_ stupid that he feels like he should have been there to stop it. It really is. But that's Dave.

“Will you ever stop being a drama queen? Pretty sure Rose and Terezi have already told you when the exact second will be that you drop all this stupid bullshit and get transferred to hero class”

 

“Your shirt is fucking linty as hell man.”

 

“What the fuck don't change the subject asshole.”

 

“Nope too late, The subject is a pick up truck driven by a blind old lady, it just swerved off the road and is barreling down through the thick undergrowth of lint on your shirt.”

 

You roll your eyes and smother his face with your palm. Dave attacks your ribs with his fingers in retaliation. You yelp loudly and the two of you start a tickle fight. Which is a really really stupid thing for Dave to instigate, or at least you think so until you go to hold him down and Dave simply just shifts into a bird, pecks your fingers _hard_ and flies up to perch on the tall display cabinet of harlequin figurines your dad keeps in the living room. You even up the score board when you float up to snatch him up in your hand and then end up losing completely when you find out that with so little surface area and a so many feathers, birds are pretty much immune to tickles. Dave caws at you twice. _Ha ha_

 

You stuff him into your shirt and end up 2 minutes later with one less old tee to wear around the house. You gripe about it for about 5 minutes because you can and it was also one of your comfier shirts. Dave spins out a complicated, strider brand stupid metaphor about how your shirt had it coming and he saved you from waking up in an rainforest of lint someday. You pick him up and drape him over your back, locking his arms around your neck with one hand on each wrist, using him as a makeshift cape while he rambles. He's startled into shutting up when you run for the stairs, yell 'PCHOO' as loud as your clogged nasal cavity and bacteria infested throat would let you and lift off the floor halfway through, literally flying up the stairs as fast as you can with Dave still secured against your back.

You fly into your room and when you reach your bed, you twist mid-air and let yourself drop. Dave lets out a winded OOF when he gets sandwiched between you and the bed.

 

“My fucking _god._ Did you have a blue whale for breakfast?” Dave asks, squirming under your back.

 

“No, you're just a wimpy noodle dork.”

 

“I think you ruptured my spleen.”

 

“You'll live you huge blubbering pansy.”

 

“Auggh my ribs are cracked, I feel internal bleeding happening. I can see a light. Goodbye world, this is it. Death via John Egbert's fat ass.”

 

You find his side and dig into it with your elbow. “okAY, seriously though can you get off me before you actually end up crushing me to death?”

 

You roll off him obediently and prop yourself on your hand to watch him. Dave rubs gingerly at the spot just under his ribs. “You're horrible. Remind me why I like you again?”

 

“Because I'm awesome.”

 

He snorts.

 

You lean over to softly kiss at the spot he was rubbing through his shirt, lips brushing against his fingers. Dave is watching you intently when you look up. “I don't think you've made your point.”

You roll your eyes fondly, taking a moment to just appreciate the sight of him, long-limbed, pale and handsome and yours. You're smiling before you know it and you bend down to kiss his chest, almost but not quite above his heart. You plant another kiss on his throat and end with a light boop of a kiss on the tip of his nose, which wrinkles at the touch of your lips, like a petulant kid's.

 

You grin at him, face hovering over his for a few silent moments, hesitating just a little before leaning down and kissing him for the umpteenth time this afternoon, right on the mouth.

 

“You are so skipping school to be my manservant when I wake up tomorrow with a country of bacteria colonizing my throat.”

 

You pinch his nose lightly. “Fine no more make outs for you then. Hmm...cuddles?”

 

He mulls that over for a second then opens his arms up. “Hell ye.”

 

You flop ungracefully into his chest and the two of you shift around a bit until you settle into comfortable cuddling positions.

 

You stay that way for roughly two hours, curled around each other, limbs entwined. You talk a little, mostly about school but those discussions never failed to drift off into comfortable silence as the two of you decide you would rather just nuzzle into each other's shoulders, cheeks and hair. Dave complains about over heating a lot since you are still sick and you're even warmer than usual, which, given your natural human furnace tendencies, is really quite a lot of warmth. So he pulls away a lot but you don't mind because he comes right back 2 minutes later.

 

You discuss your friends with Dave's head pillowed on your bare stomach and your hands lost in his hair. You talk about Rose's Extra sensory Perception as you twist strands of pale blond hair between your fingers, laugh about how she would know who has porked with who and when and how and immediately recoil when you realize that _so_ encompasses the two of you. You hastily move on to Jade and Sollux, who could probably skip Sky High altogether and just go out on the field with their powers. Dave slides up to rest his cheek against your chest as you muse about how Jade most definitely doesn't need any coaching considering her moral compass is permanently pointing at good and she can quite literally shrink the planet down and hold it in the palm of her hand if she wished.

 

Dave snorts and says she'll probably just shrink criminals down to the size of fleas and put them in an ant farm like she did with that Caliborn kid back in freshman year. Or rearrange their faces so that their noses were above their butt and their eyes were on their ears. Space manipulation powers are so weird and scary.

 

“What about you?” Dave asks.

 

“What about me?” you reply, confused.

 

“You're practically super man, sure you're still kind of tripping all over the place and falling on your face when it comes to your powers but give it a bit more time and you'd be making hurricanes and lifting buildings over your head. You can probably drop out and team up with your dad before the semester is over.”

 

“Pfft I highly doubt that. Besides,” You say, eyes dropping down to your chest where his head was still resting. “I already signed myself up for team HammerTime remember?”

 

Dave makes a choking sound and darts up to look at you incredulously. “How the hell do you even still remember that?” You grin at him. “The same way you do, you ginormous dweeb.”

 

Dave just grabs a pillow and starts whacking you with it. Team HammerTime was a concept he came up with in second grade. He had his appendix taken out and you were there right after the surgery, he was kind of loopy from whatever drugs they gave him for the operation. (He was really loopy and it was fucking hilarious and you wished you knew how to operate a camera back then you really do)

 

He was convinced that you had a weapon and it was a big blue colorful hammer that was half your size. He called it Zillyhoo. He talked about it like it was actually a thing and then he rambled on for 30 minutes about how the two of you should team up in the future and be a crime fighting duo.

 

“Oh man you know what we'd be called? You know what? You know?” and then his voice dropped dramatically “Hammertime.”

 

He dissolved into hysterics right after and you were actually worried a little before Bro came in and assured you Dave is fine.

 

“How can I not? Bro threatened to blow up the world's supply of apple juice just to get you to stop laughing at your own dumbass joke and wheezing at him to play u can't touch this on repeat. And you actually believed there's such a thing as a world supply of apple juice and started crying.”

 

He tries to smother you with your pillow, you laugh and easily wrestle him under you and flop over him, settling over him with limbs sprawled everywhere so he can't move.

 

“You suck.” he mutters, blowing your hair out of his face.

 

“Mmmhmm.” you say easily, eyes closing.

 

There was a break of silence that ends up stretching on, and on and the longer it went, the less you felt like breaking it. It's especially tempting to just shut up and lie on Dave when you feel his arms come up and wrap around your back, his palms resting easily against your bare skin. You spare an errant thought about the pieces of your ruined shirt that still lie on your living room floor like forgotten debris then Dave kisses your head and you forget all about it.

 

You end up falling asleep on him and when you wake up you're the one on your back with Dave resting on top of you, one arm slung over your chest and the matching leg slung over your waist. You blink a few times, blearily taking in the dim lighting in your room. Everything is blurry because your glasses are not on your face and it makes you a little more confused than a normal sleep roused would be.

 

“mmrh oh god what time is it.” You mumble to yourself.

 

“Almost 7,” Dave replies softly. You jump a little, not expecting him to be awake. “How're you feeling?”

 

You sniffle a little and slowly shift so that the two of you were lying on your sides. Dave's leg remains on your waist and you put a hand on his thigh, tracing it all the way up to his side and higher, up his arm until you were cupping his neck. You're tired as fuck and still a bit too warm maybe and your head is buzzing a little.

 

“Bit better.”

 

“Good.”

 

“It's getting late.”

 

“Hm.”

 

“Shouldn't you be heading home.”

 

“Yes.”

 

But he doesn't move and neither do you. He even kisses you back when you push your face gently into his, seeking contact. You kiss languidly, easily, and it should be gross because your nose is stuffy and you're getting future him more sick the more you kiss him but you don't care and just keep kissing him like you could do it all day and still want more. Because you're a dumb teenager and Dave's lips are really soft and he smells nice and you kind of like him a whole, heaping _lot_.

 

Eventually, you hear the front door open, the security beeping in that neutral tone that indicates a key was used and there was no break in. You pull away from Dave when you hear the familiar sound of your dad tossing his key on the small table by the door where you keep mail.

 

“Son?” comes his voice, deep and booming from downstairs.

 

“Yeah?,” You call back.

 

“Just checking up on you, How are you feeling? Would you like some soup?”

 

“I'm okay. Soup sounds great.”

 

“Chicken or Garlic and Kale?”

 

“Chicken!”

 

Dave pulls away from you as the sounds of your dad shuffling around the kitchen rise up the stairs. You sit up and take hold of his arm. “He won't mind if you're here.”

 

Dave stretches over to grab his shades where he left it, tucked precariously on your headboard. He slides them back on his face. “I know but I really do have to get going. Rose texted me when you were sleeping, says if I'm not home ten minutes ago, Bro is going to eat the last slice of pizza. He wouldn't, knowing him, but at this point, he's probably definitely considering it. Aaand I kind of have a utility belt to assemble and turn in tomorrow or else I'll fail utility belt basics.”

 

“Aww.” You say sounding like a dismayed 5 year old. “Okay fine.”

 

You walk him to your window and kiss him some more before he shifts and flies off into the night. He kisses you back, seemingly totally heedless now of the fact that he is going to feel like complete and utter shit tomorrow because of all the bacteria you were passing to him.

 

“Night Dave.” You say when you pull away.

 

“G'night.” he says with a small, rare smile and then he was off, he falls freely from your window sill and his silhouette blurs as it plummets to the ground before forming into the solid shape of a crow and flying off into the night.

 

You don't see him the following morning. A quick text to Rose lets you know that he was in the bathroom puking,

 Or at least that's what he told me. He's not, he's hiding in the back of one of the school buses whining and moaning and avoiding 1st period because he's feeling a bit under the weather.

 

And right after lunch, before PE class, you get a text from Dave.

 

just turned in my utility belt. im grabbing an attendance slip and absconding the fuck out of here i feel like a pulverized sack of shit. all your fault come to my house and take care of me you jerk

 

no :p

 

You text him back. But when you duck into the locker room to change for class, you skip out on playing save the citizen, put the special wind breaker Kanaya designed for you to wear when flying on and fly down from the school to skip classes for the second day in a row.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
